Better This Way
by SylvieT
Summary: Not quite a post-ep for the finale, Immortality. Just an extension of the scene between Grissom and Lady Heather after she's made her statement. Grissom/LH friendship. GSR, despite the two characters involved. A little Lindsey too.


A/N: Not quite a post-ep for the finale, _Immortality_. I just wanted to extend the scene between Grissom and Lady Heather after she's made her statement. You know, the very Lurie-esque moment when Grissom opens up his heart. I guess, this time it wasn't Sara behind the mirror, but Lindsey. ;-)

Somehow, I'm having a hard time getting to grips with the ending. I can see the symbolism of Sara leaving everything to be with Grissom, a reversal of _One To Go_ , and don't get me wrong, I truly enjoyed the episode, especially Grissom's interaction with everyone, and gosh did we get some, and I love that they got to sail away into the sunset, it was a lovely and very moving scene, very well acted, but there's something that bothers me with it. Maybe it's because it feels too much like a fairy tale ending that skims over a lot of the GSR issues, I don't know.

Sara was seen to be applying for the position of lab director, right? Shouldn't it have been nightshift supervisor?

Anyway I thought I'd explore Grissom's psyche a little more and his reasons for wanting to stay away when clearly he loves Sara very much, and who better than Lady Heather to help me do that? I don't know if I quite got it right, but I'd be interested in knowing your take on it all.

The dialogue at the start is taken straight from the episode itself, and isn't mine. It's just a reminder, and a lead into the story.

* * *

Better This Way.

* * *

GRISSOM: That's it. We're done. Thanks for your statement. The DA may ask you to testify, but that's entirely up to you.

HEATHER: Sure. Whatever helps.

GRISSOM sits down at the table: Heather, before I get back on my boat, I wanted to thank you.

HEATHER: Thank me for what?

GRISSOM takes a breath, hesitates: When we first met, I—I had a shell around my heart. I'd lost my belief in humanity. The only truth I knew was empirical science. I—I just wanted to thank you for opening my heart. Through you, I learned to love someone.

HEATHER: Sara?

GRISSOM smiles: She restored my faith in the human being. Plus, she helped me with my crossword puzzles. She's been my best friend. I'll miss her. For the rest of my life.

* * *

Grissom opened his mouth again, but he'd said it all. Smiling a little awkwardly, he pushed to his feet, and Heather did the same. He'd said what he wanted to say and hoped it showed her she wasn't all alone in the world, that she was still an important part of his life, his friend and sometime confidante. She'd made a difference, and he wanted her to know.

Heather picked up her purse, then tiredly slung it over her shoulder. Even without this latest…situation, she hadn't been doing well for some time, her phone call the previous week a case in point. He opened the door for her and waited until she'd stepped out into the corridor to do the same. Stopping, she turned toward him. Her eyes were narrowed, and he knew she was about to call him on what he'd just confided.

"Gil," she said, and paused, "Sara loves you, and it's clear you still love her. When you told me you'd got divorced, I—I assumed…" she opened her hands, groping for words, "That Sara had instigated proceedings."

Grissom cast an uneasy look toward two uniformed officers walking past before putting his hand on her elbow and leading her away to a quieter area.

"But she didn't, did she? _You_ did."

With a sigh, he nodded his head. "That's right."

"And she signed the papers?"

Assuming the question was a rhetorical one, Grissom didn't bother answering it.

"Why don't you just tell her how you feel?" Heather insisted, her tone showing surprise and puzzlement, impatience and reproach too. "How you _still_ feel?"

"Sara's life's here now," he replied quietly, "Her happiness too. Mine is at sea." He shrugged, kept his voice low and the regret out of his tone. "She's doing so well professionally, and emotionally she's so strong—stronger than I've ever known her. Did you know she just got the position of lab director? She's really come into her own now."

Heather's smile was warm and tender. "You sound so proud of her."

"I am," he replied firmly. His smile trembled, and he lowered his eyes before flicking them back up. "Sara…well, she had to beat the odds and work damn hard to get to where she is now. She deserves to be doing well, and I _am_ proud of her." Tears filled his eyes, and he forced a smile to hide them. "More than you, or she, could ever know."

"Then why don't you tell her how you feel?"

Grissom's smile stiffened. He shrugged. "I can't. I've missed my chance. I don't know when it passed me by, but it did and now it's too late. We can't go back."

"No. But you can go forward."

"And I am. I'm setting sail again in a couple of days."

Heather's gaze was probing, disconcerting. "You're afraid. You've always been afraid."

Grissom neither confirmed nor denied her statement, even though he knew it to be true. He just averted his gaze uncomfortably before opening his hand, indicating they should head out. "Why don't we…have dinner before I drive you home? Well, your new home." He smiled to hide his sadness over everything Heather had lost recently – her home and business and profession, but also her granddaughter. "It'd be nice to catch up properly."

A wide smile lit up her face, and she patted his arm affectionately. "I'd like that."

"Hey, Mr Grissom!"

Grissom stopped in his tracks, then turned to look over his shoulder at Lindsey closing the viewing room door behind her.

"I'll just go use the bathroom," Heather said quietly, dropping her hand from his arm as Lindsey approached a little warily.

Grissom nodded. "I'll meet you outside."

Heather looked at Lindsey and gave her a smile and a nod of acknowledgement, then headed past them down the corridor. Both turned to watch her go.

"Lindsey," he said afterwards, covering the two steps to the young CSI, "You've got to stop calling me Mr Grissom. Whatever happened to Uncle Gil?"

Lindsey's face lit up with surprise. "Oh, so you do remember me."

"Of course," he said, feigning offence. "How could I ever forget you? I got you your first chem kit, if you recall."

Lindsey laughed. "And I still got it, somewhere."

"What can I do for you?" Grissom asked, when silence stretched between them.

Lindsey glanced toward where Heather had gone. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't."

"Mom said you were going back to sea soon, and I just wanted to say goodbye, and thank you."

Grissom's face softened with affection, and he acknowledged her thanks with a nod. Catherine had done a good job of raising her; he should remember to mention it to her before he left. "I'm leaving in a couple of days." He shrugged. "The whales need me. But you take care of yourself, alright? And of your mother too."

"You too, Mr Grissom." He arched a brow, and laughing, she amended his name to, "Gil. Uncle makes me sound like a little kid."

She was turning to leave when Grissom said, "You're going to make a fine CSI, Lindsey. So, you hang in there, alright? It'll be tough sometimes, but Sara will help you every step of the way. She is going to be a great boss. You'll learn a lot from her."

"That's funny, 'cause Sara told me she learned it all from you."

He laughed uneasily. "Not all of it. She's a much better CSI than I ever was. And I know she'll be a much better boss too."

Lindsey nodded, then rose on her tiptoes to buss him on the cheek. "Bye Uncle Gil," she said, her smile teasing.

Grissom watched her go before turning on his heels and giving PD one final look around. He couldn't say he'd missed the place at all. So much had changed since he was last there, not least Brass's departure. When he finally got outside, Heather was already waiting. Clutching her purse tightly against her chest, she stood a little to the side of the main entrance with her eyes closed and her face turned up toward the setting sun.

She looked so very alone. On the outside, she was nothing but strong, and yet he knew that deep inside hid a softness and vulnerability she kept fiercely guarded. Her granddaughter's death had hit her hard, even harder maybe than Zoe's had, and it would take time for her to find a new direction, a new purpose in life. He just hoped that the forthcoming inquest into Alison's death would give her some closure and allow her to move on.

"You must think me changed," she said, her lips pulling into a smile as she opened her eyes and turned her face toward him.

"Not all that much," he replied, and then after a moment's hesitation, "So, where to for dinner?"

"If you don't mind, I might pass. I'm tired, Grissom," she went on in a sigh, "So very tired. I don't seem to be able to catch a moment's peace."

"Then all the more reasons to eat. And I know just the place."

Heather gave him a grudging smile, and when he opened his arm out for her to take she slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow. Quietly, they set off across the parking lot to her car.

"You should be taking Sara to dinner, not me."

"Heather—" he said in a mildly warning tone.

She laughed softly. "I'm not going to get you to change your mind, am I?"

Grissom shook his head. "No."

They got to the car, and Heather reached inside her purse for the key. She was about to climb into the driver's seat when she changed her mind and Grissom took the wheel. Traffic was dense at this time of the day, but once they hit the interstate they made good time. The drive over to Lake Mead was a silent one, both lost in their own thoughts, but not an unpleasant one. The evening was cool by the lake, and when Heather wrapped her arms around herself to fend off the cold he removed his windbreaker and draped it over her shoulders.

"I'm used to it," he said, when she turned questioning eyes to him.

They strolled up to the marina, walked to the end of the jetty and back again. They kept their chatting light, no mention of Sara or Alison, or the case. He wanted to ask how she was doing, if she was coping better with her loss, but afraid to spoil the mood didn't. There was still time for that. He just talked about his work and the ocean while she listened and asked all the right questions to get him to talk some more.

At the restaurant, they chose a table outside, a little out of the way, and the waitress left them with menus. Heather picked up hers while Grissom cast his gaze out over the dark lake beyond. He'd come to love his solitary life at sea, loved the peace and tranquillity, the vast expanse and endless sky. He was still seeking truths and gathering evidence, where the victims weren't people anymore, but innocent ocean animals poached and cruelly murdered for their meat or blubber. He simply couldn't imagine a life in Vegas anymore.

"We tried, Heather," he said after a moment in silent contemplation. "You got to believe me when I say we tried. _Both_ of us," he added pointedly, refocusing his attention on her. "But it didn't work. I can't make her happy, Heather. It's as simple as that. I never could."

"I disagree," she said softly, holding his gaze levelly, and sighed. Smiling sadly, she smoothed her hair down, then looked at her hands hesitantly, and he knew she was choosing her words carefully, that he wouldn't like what truth she was about to impart.

"I have a hard time reconciling myself to your way of thinking," she finally said, looking up and tilting her head to the side. "You've got this…beautiful love at your fingertips, you can just reach out and grab it, and yet you deny yourself that love, a love you seem to cherish above everything else." Her voice was controlled, but rising. She took a breath, checked herself and their surroundings. "How many people can say that the person they love is also their best friend?"

Grissom didn't reply. Heather didn't have to tell him that his bond with Sara was special, one of a kind. He knew that already, had always done. He loved Sara above everything else and wanted what was best for her, which was why he'd set her free. His own well-being and happiness faded in comparison. How could he even begin to explain that to Heather? How could she understand when she'd never found such love or shared such bond herself?

"I don't understand how you can…how you can…just let that love go to waste," Heather went on, growing frustrated with his lack of response. "Life is too short, real love too rare." Bringing her hand to her mouth to conceal her sudden emotion, she swallowed and turned away, then discreetly wiped at the corner of her eyes.

Wanting to give Heather a moment to compose herself, Grissom turned his attention back to the lake. He understood where she was coming from; her grief over the loss of Alison was still very new, very raw. But her love for her granddaughter was very different from his love for Sara. Hers had been abruptly taken away from her, whereas his…well, he'd deliberately stepped away from his.

"This isn't payback for what happened six years ago, is it?"

Surprised by the change of tack, Grissom startled. "Payback? How do you mean?"

Heather shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. "Six years ago, when you came to see me, you were at a crossroads. You made a choice, the right choice, I hasten to add, as I told you then. When you left Vegas, you put Sara and your love for her first, only for her to change her mind a few months later and after you'd just gotten married, and return to Vegas."

Grissom bristled at what Heather was implying; that Sara was solely at fault for the breakup of their marriage. He was as much to blame as she was, if not more. "I supported Sara's return wholeheartedly," he defended heatedly. "It was the best thing for her. It was something she needed to do, and looking at where she is now she was right. Sara needed to come back, and—"

"You stayed away."

He paused, nodded his head. "It was easier that way."

"Gil―"

"I gave her the freedom to find herself," he defended, "reach her potential and achieve all the great things she was destined to. She doesn't need me anymore. I'd only be holding her back."

"But you need _her_."

"I do." He smiled. "And I've got her." He tapped his heart. "In here. And that's enough for me. That's all I need. I don't want her to give up her life in Vegas, not for me. She wouldn't be happy. Her work, her friends, her mother, they're all here."

"You're not."

He sighed. Did he wish that things were different between him and Sara? Sure, he did. But they weren't, and he was resigned to that fact.

"And it's better this way."


End file.
